toez

No. I'm not a zombie. Yet. My brain is rebelling against me yet again. Depression is a son of a bitch, and just when I think I'm doing good, it decides I'm not. I love my life. I love my husband, live my child, but I can't help the feeling that I'm going to mess everything up. Sometimes I want to pack a bag, and run away. Although that would mess everything up beyond a shadow of a doubt. At the moment, I have no one to talk to about this. That doesn't help. I can't bottle. Doesn't work for me. I just want to be as happy as I should be.